Backyard Makeover: Before and After

So here's the deal. It all started with a puppy.

Sadie was a cute little floppy-eared pup who'd stolen our hearts. We were told that she would grow to around 30-35 lbs. tops. I knew something was up when my dad suggested that we check out the size of her puppy paws.

He tried to smother a laugh."Paws tell the real tale. Hers are huge."

When Sadie died 14 years later, she weighed in at 67 lbs, and she left a backyard permanently marked by her presence. One of her thrilling activities was to patrol the yard periodically,in search of a certain black cat who would perch on our fence as if she owned the place. Fourteen years worth of patrolling had carved a ridged pathway where grass would no longer grow.

Every couple of years, I'd convince myself that our rambunctious canine would probably ignore newly planted flowers. I'd haul home beautiful annuals to add color spots. Sadie loved everything about them--how they smelled, tasted, and felt on a hot summer day. Through the years, she taste-tested a row of newly planted geraniums. Pranced back and forth through a luscious bed of pink and white pansies. Stomped our strawberries silly, then laid across them when noon temps rose. Felt nice and cool on her tummy, I think. Every week ushered in a new surprise.

A Journey of a Thousand Steps

After Sadie left us, something had to be done. So around dawn one summer morning, I made my first move.

In the beginning, my idea was to just remove a strip along the side fence. I figured I'd build up a nice flowerbed area and begin there. My husband, who was the official Lawn Guy, hadn't offered any criticism. His calculating mind was at work: Less lawn=less mowing!


But you know how these projects go. The part of the brain that envisions speedy results suddenly switches into overdrive. Hey, now that wasn't so bad! Only took three hours! I could make this a little wider...a little longer...

I knew I was getting tired the day I realized I'd been digging four hours straight. I laid my shovel aside and eased onto a patio chair. Hot, sweaty, and with joints warning me of a direct attack first thing the next morning, I officially granted myself permission to pamper myself.

I took the next day off.

I remember the moment I finished the Big Dig. I felt as if I'd been airdropped into a dry, desolate field at the center of Nowhere. My former semi-green, mostly trampled lawn--the entire thing-- now rested in two gigantic heaps.

My no-design approach had left me with a big blank rectangle. It looked like dirt clod heaven. I could hardly believe that my longing for a flowerbed had brought me to this.

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I slept well that night. Kind of reminded me of the the night before a car trip - high on anticipation and ready to roll.

Some call it Stonehill Industrial History Center. Others affectionately refer to it simply as the Shovel Museum. Located in Easton, Massachusetts on the Stonehill College campus, the collection boasts some 800 Ames shovels, trowels, and trenchers.

If you ask me the difference between a shovel and a trencher, this conversation is over. (All I know is they both have handles...don't they?)

I took a little trip to a local nursery. I knew what I liked and disliked, but shame on me--I could only name a handful of flowers. After a few minutes of reading labels and botanical names, I decided, Who cares about the Latin? Just give me the plants in my favorite colors and let me go home already!

Happy Husband delivered a utility trailer of rich soil and helped spread it across my space. Things were looking up. My patio at that point was covered with assorted plants, their sweet scent carried along on a gentle breeze. I was so excited about planting my first flowerbed, I forgot to eat lunch.

I tried to act like a real landscaper with years of gardening expertise, but ended up bumbling around like a buffoon. Hmmm. Let's see...didn't I read somewhere about planting in three's? About balance and form? Using unique textures and colors? I thought of another article that talked about using foilage to add special interest. Huh?

All that pondering was giving me a headache. So, I returned to what I had originally intended to do. I grabbed a combination of flowers that made my heart thump faster, declared it good, and away we went to play in the dirt.

"The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth,
One is nearer God's heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth."
- Dorothy Frances Gurney, Garden Thoughts

"In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt." - Margaret Atwood

"The trouble with gardening is that it does not remain an avocation. It becomes an obsession."
- Phyllis McGinley

"Nothing is more the child of art than a garden."
-Sir Walter Scott

"Don't wear perfume in the garden-unless you want to be pollinated by bees." - Anne Raver

"When gardeners garden, it is not just plants that grow, but the gardeners themselves." - Ken Druse

"A garden is never so good as it will be next year." - Thomas Cooper

The day I completed my first flowerbed, I sat for a solid hour, iced tea glass in hand, admiring the new view. The next morning, I returned to the nursery for more flowers. In fact, I bought so many flowers, I was forced into creating a second flowerbed...and then another and another. Well, you get the picture.

*Surprise!* A design was emerging in my unorthodox landscaping project. I spotted a naturally winding path linking three flowerbeds. Aha! I'd pad the path with bark chips.


I was hooked. No turning back now! With each new plant, each new curve in the path, I witnessed a most beautiful transformation taking place. My backyard was no longer just a rectangular expanse of boring grass, but a collection of favorite flowers and bushes that I hoped would eventually attract wildlife as well.

My passion for nature photography kicked into high gear, and gave me the drive I needed to make it to the home stretch.I felt energized by the thought of how my the space would look, once the plants had time to establish themselves, and how great it would be to be able to create beautiful photo compositions by literally stepping out my backdoor. In a couple of weeks, I had filled the backyard with new flowerbeds, continuing a pattern of paths that would meet and flow through the entire space.

I'd planted coneflowers. Delphinium. African Daisies. Pansies. Purple lupine. Sweet Alyssum. Butterfly bush. Meadow Sage. Lavender. Clematis. Dusty Miller. Snapdragon. Saxifraga. The list continued, as I added whatever appealed to me.

The two most important things I paid attention to when selecting where to plant were the amount of sun or shade they'd need, plus how much water would be required.


Hard work had finally paid off, and I never regretted picking up that shovel.

What did I learn? Well, here's the short list:

Tips for Clueless Landscapers:

1. Approach the project with a can-do attitude.
2. Envision how you'd like the yard to look and feel.
3. Give thanks for good health that allows hard work.
4. Choose plants that speak to your senses.
5. Enjoy the process!

My humdrum backyard was now a peaceful sanctuary. I love sitting outside after a busy day, breathing in all that beauty.

It'll be well worth the effort, I promise. In fact, the majority of the nature photos I've posted at my Photo Buffet photoblog were taken in my very own backyard. Many early-morning shots are featured in the "Lightscapes" section of my "Nature's Treasures" gallery, too. Check them out and see what's possible if you grab a shovel and start digging!

Would I do it all over again? Dig up sod, haul yard refuge by crickity old wheelbarrow? Shovel bark chips, and of course anticipate the arrival of eventual weeds?

You betcha.

In the middle of winter, I admit that I wasn't quite as enthusiastic as I am now. I thought sure my perennials wouldn't see another blooming season. It looked like my work had delivered a yardful of dead plants.

When spring arrived, though, a wise gardening friend advised me to check the base of the brown stems. "You'll see evidence of new growth."

Sure enough, way down in the dirt at the base of my "dead" perennials were tiny green sprigs waiting to poke their way into the new season. By June, lush foilage appeared. And when July rolled into town, I had more than the year before. In fact, I'm amazed every time I find what I call a "flyaway plant" appear on the opposite side of the garden, far from where I originally planted it.

Life is good in my unplanned backyard.Here's a peek at some of my posies:











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